Duality of Servitude
by Adia7
Summary: Severus Snape experiences the burden of serving two masters. A one-shot look at the torture his life must have been after GoF. Please read and review.


Every nerve of his body snapped with a pain that most people could not conceive. With each step he took, tiny explosions shot from the exposed nerves to his spine, and a constant ache in his left forearm reminded him of what had hurt him. Not who, what. That was the true torture- having to remember so vividly, every moment he had writhed on the floor, every scream that had escaped his lips, every helpless plea that had danced through his burning brain.  
  
He could picture the potions lined up on his bedside table in his private chambers, one to counter the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, one to knock him into a dreamless sleep that would last for at least ten hours. That was what he wanted, those hours, those precious hours, when he was his own master, when he had no one to answer to but himself, when no one could punish him for being too quick or too slow to answer, for knowing too little or too much. He wanted the safety and security of his warm bed.  
  
"Chocolate frog," he rasped.  
  
The staircase spiraled up to the Headmaster's office, carrying Severus Snape along with them. At the top, he stepped into the room; the door closed magically behind him. "I'll be with you in a moment," Albus Dumbledore said without turning around. He returned a book to its place on his shelf and turned to welcome his visitor. When he saw the young professor, his cheerful face fell. "Oh, Severus."  
  
He offered Severus an arm, which the Potions Master accepted; he was just too tired to care how weak he seemed. After he had settled Snape in a chair and taken his own seat, Dumbledore firmly demanded, "Show me what happened, my child."  
  
Snape closed his eyes and whispered, "Not tonight."  
  
"I apologize," Dumbledore said. "I must know tonight; you know that."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
"Legilimens."  
  
A moment passed before Snape felt the gentle probing of Dumbledore's mind inside his. Dumbledore's probes were always gentle, never the ravaging explorations upon which Voldemort so often insisted, but they always left him feeling the same: helpless, empty, violated. It was always easier if he just relaxed and allowed whoever was in his mind to rove freely wherever he wanted. He had learned that in his first days with Voldemort.  
  
/////  
  
"Severus, you. have been highly inactive of late."  
  
"I have been busy at the school, Master."  
  
"Have they rescheduled classes to take place through the night?"  
  
"No, Master, of course they haven't."  
  
"Then my only conclusion must be that you are too lazy to obey the orders of your master."  
  
"My Lord's orders are my first-"  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
/////  
  
His brain flared with the fiery pain of memory, and Snape instinctively tried to break the contact. Dumbledore latched on more tightly.  
  
"Have you learned your lesson, boy?"  
  
"Y-y-yes. yes, M-Master."  
  
"The next time I give you an order, I want it executed immediately. People are beginning to talk. They are saying that you are Albus Dumbledore's lapdog, that you have betrayed me."  
  
Icy fingers lift my chin from against the cold, cement floor, force me to look up into the snakelike eyes. I drop my gaze instinctively.  
  
"Look at me! Lucius has vouched for you. I believe that you are my loyal servant."  
  
"I am, Master. I swear it."  
  
Those damn fingers caress my cheek possessively. "I held you under for, perhaps, longer than I should have. You needn't accompany the others tonight. Go home."  
  
"I-I will go-"  
  
"Go home. Brew the potion we discussed, bring it to me this time tomorrow, and all will be forgiven."  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
/////  
  
Dumbledore pulled out, and the scene faded from before Snape's eyes. "How long did he hold you under, my child?"  
  
"Nearly an hour," Snape replied dully. "I'm sorry--- I remember very little of what happened before that, just bits and pieces of conversations. They make no sense."  
  
"Yes, I know. I saw." Dumbledore walked over to his cabinet and removed a phial of red-violet potion. He handed it to Snape. "Drink it down quickly, Severus, it's quite foul."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Gently, the Headmaster said, "Trust that I have your best interests at heart. You know I feel about your asking unnecessary questions at times like these."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master," Snape whispered before he could consider to which master he spoke.  
  
Dumbledore closed his eyes sadly. He knew painfully well that there was little difference between himself and Voldemort in Snape's mind; both were demanding, often unforgiving men who asked for everything and gave almost nothing in return. And both could crush Snape's life with a snap of their fingers if they so chose- if there was any possibility that he could ever be replaced.  
  
"Drink the potion, Severus." *And, please, stop calling me that.*  
  
Snape downed the potion. It sent a cooling sensation through his excruciatingly warm veins, and though it left a repulsive aftertaste in his mouth, and, deep down, Snape was grateful for it. One of Dumbledore's secret stores, Snape knew instinctively that it would be a waste of his time to ask what it was; the Headmaster was a man of many secrets.  
  
"Have you brewed the potion Voldemort asked for?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Have you brewed it correctly?"  
  
Desperation slamming his eyes shut, Snape shook his head. Voldemort's punishments for failed assignments were terrible, and after that night's prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, he was not entirely certain he would be able to withstand it. On the other hand, the results of the potion, correctly brewed, would be less pleasant for whoever was forced to drink it. "I added extra toad's blood."  
  
"Do you have time to brew another batch?"  
  
"Well, I. Technically, yes, sir. I could finish it in a day, but I would need the whole day."  
  
"Very well, I will take over your classes, and you will brew it properly."  
  
"No," Snape whispered, shaking his head despite the pain the movement sent dancing the tarantella down his spine. "No, he wants-"  
  
Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "I know perfectly well what he wants."  
  
"And you want me to make it for him?"  
  
The Headmaster nodded very slightly.  
  
"Very well."  
  
Dumbledore perched on the edge of his desk, scrutinizing his young spy. He had grown even paler since the Dark Lord's return, lost a great deal of weight. Prolonged bouts of the Cruciatus were taking their toll; Dumbledore knew better than to send him to Voldemort with a useless potion. It might very well be the death of the young man.  
  
"You'll be falling asleep shortly."  
  
Through the pain, Snape found the strength to glare at the Headmaster. "You gave me a sleeping draught?"  
  
"Naturally," Dumbledore replied. He rose and gestured for the Potions Master to follow.  
  
Dumbledore led Snape through a door near the back of his office. With a sinking, desperate feeling, Snape slipped into Dumbledore's private living quarters. *What humiliation will I be forced to endure now?* The Headmaster took him into what Snape had unconsciously begun to consider his room, where he was often forced to stay after a particularly nasty bout with the Cruciatus.  
  
The floor pitched beneath him, and Snape collapsed onto the edge of the bed. A gentle hand guided him down among very generous pillows and enchanted blankets which wrapped warmly around him. The world was swimming. Whatever Dumbledore had given him, it was undeniably strong. Even years of training himself never to sleep when he was not in his properly warded private chambers could not counter the potion's effect.  
  
"Surrender to it, Severus."  
  
"I. can't."  
  
"It is inevitable; you may as well make it easy on yourself."  
  
"Wards," Snape whispered, struggling to explain his fears despite the clouds rolling across his brain.  
  
Dumbledore calmingly said, "My wards are as thorough as your own, dear boy. Please, rest."  
  
The Potions Master realized he had no choice in the matter; he allowed himself to float away, past the confines of Hogwarts castle and the torrential pain flooding through his body, mind, and spirit. He didn't hear the Headmaster's fervent words as he floated to sleep: "You are under my protection where no harm can come to you. You are mine, Severus, not his, and I do not sit back and allow Voldemort to take what is mine." 


End file.
